


Good. In bed.

by hollybibble



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Angst and Humor, Completely fictional sex moves, First Time, Lots of talking about sex without much actual sex, M/M, The First Night at Stevie's (yes another)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-04
Updated: 2020-01-04
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:20:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22119286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hollybibble/pseuds/hollybibble
Summary: David took a deep breath and announced gravely, “Patrick, you should probably know that I am good in bed.”Patrick looked at him with a mix of confusion and maybe a touch of amusement. “Well, I suspected as much, but I was hoping to confirm it for myself.”It's the first night at Stevie's. David is nervous and overprepared. Patrick is sweet. They work it out.
Relationships: Patrick Brewer/David Rose
Comments: 27
Kudos: 224





	Good. In bed.

**Author's Note:**

> I know it's been done to death, but in honor of the upcoming Season 6 and my 10th fic in this fandom, I am contributing my own version of the First Night at Stevie's.

THAT NIGHT

David was good in bed. It was one of the few consistent facts about himself that he could list reassuringly at times like these, when he felt unmoored and a little terrified. He was David Rose. He was good in bed. He disliked dried fruits (it was a texture thing, really). He got a rash from acrylic fibers. He was incapable of lasting relationships. 

Steering Patrick towards the bed in Stevie’s apartment, he kept repeating the first fact and trying to forget the last one. “I am good in bed. People like having sex with me. At least the first time. Raisins are bad. Everything is fine.”

THAT MORNING

“Good morning, Mr. Brewer,” grinned David as he breezed into the Apothecary. Patrick looked up from his newspaper and strode around the counter (Patrick liked the actual print paper even though it smelled vinegary and left smudges on his hands, the dear boy.) David leaned in for a peck on the cheek, Patrick went for a hug, and somehow in the confusion they ended up in a full body press, lips together, a meeting of Patrick’s warmth and David’s cold hands, of toothpaste and coffee and Earl Grey, that felt somehow more momentous than their usual morning greeting.

Their make out sessions in Patrick’s car, in Ray’s kitchen, in the Apothecary stockroom, were always safe. Patrick wanted to take things slow, and David was on his best behavior. Since he felt obliged to hint that he was good in bed, sometimes David even showed off a little, licking his thumb to reach under Patrick’s shirt and swirl his nipple counterclockwise while delicately nipping an earlobe, or kissing Patrick deeply while surreptitiously kneading the pressure point between his boyfriend’s thumb and index finger that connected to the groin. If Patrick’s responsive moans and eager gropes made David feel like he was close to losing control, well, that was okay. Any minute Ray’s car would pull into the driveway, or the bell on the store’s door would ring, and Patrick would detach from him with a dopey stare, and David would have kept Patrick’s interest for another day.

THAT NIGHT

The evening had not gone to plan. Stevie, Jake, the unexpected need to revisit the past. When Patrick muttered “Lock it up,” against David’s lips, David momentarily giggled with relief. He and Patrick had been taking it slow, until now they weren’t. Everything was fine. 

But this wasn’t the time or place for giggling. As Patrick kissed him enthusiastically, David slowed the pace a bit, getting back to his usual well-practiced rhythm of seduction. Kiss the lips, a little neck, then lips again. Right hand to hair, carefully but with pressure sweep down to lower back, then trail tantalizingly to ass. Return to kissing neck. Repeat as needed.

Patrick seemed to be enjoying the lip, neck, ass, neck combo. He slid backwards onto the bed, pulling David down with him and nestling contentedly into the mattress. Unfortunately, he wasn’t lying still enough for David to move on to the next stage-- he had already decided on the move where he unbuttoned Patrick’s shirt with his teeth. Maybe it was a little show-offy but it was definitely warranted by the whole Wonderful Guy Losing His Gay Virginity scenario. But Patrick was all warm hands and happy mouth, copying some of David’s twirls and swirls while adding his own eager exploration of David’s body.

“Could you maybe...lie still?” whispered David.

Patrick gave a choked laugh. “Why? I’m finally getting a chance to touch you everywhere I’ve wanted to for weeks, and it feels amazing. You’re amazing, David.” He pulled David in for a hard, rough kiss and grabbed his ass hungrily. “I want you to feel as incredible as I feel.”

David felt a wave of panic. He was accustomed to being in control in bed, or sometimes pretending to give up control in a very specific way if he sensed that was what the other person wanted. He wasn’t sure if he could stick to the agenda Patrick was so affectionate, so...fond, right there in his arms. But he had to, if he wanted to keep Patrick.

THAT MORNING

Patrick kept their hello kiss going for longer than David expected, cupping David’s jaw and pressing his firm body close. David often forgot that Patrick was shorter than him, the way he was such a solid presence and embraced David with total authority. David found himself melting a little, letting Patrick lead with his hands, his tongue, his flickering eyes, until David forgot all about his plan to try out the Lightening Bolt move that was so popular at Burning Man. He was lost in a haze of warmth and sweetness when Patrick whispered in his ear, “David, I’ve been thinking…”

THAT NIGHT

David took a deep breath and tried to keep his voice low and seductive, not squeaky with nerves. “Lie back, baby, and let me blow your mind. That’s it.” He untangled Patrick’s hands from his ass and in a quick, hopefully graceful move, he straddled Patrick’s hips. David peeled off his own sweater, pretending to carelessly discard it while discreetly aiming for the bedside chair. 

Patrick made an appreciative “mmm” and tried to rake his hands over David’s black tee, but David gently pinned his boyfriend’s arms to the mattress and moved in for the shirt buttons. It had been a while and he wished he’d had a chance to practice, but he didn’t own any button down shirts. It was just too upsetting to think of lying on his bed in the motel, rehearsing on one of his Dad’s shirts, with Alexis probably walking in to top it all off.

David nipped Patrick’s throat before seductively cooing, “Let’s get this shirt off you, sailor.” He moved in for the top button and…”Owww! Fuck!”

“What is it, David?” Patrick sat up sharply, cracking their foreheads together.

“Fuck!” said David again. “Oh my God, I broke your button and I think it cut my lip.”

“What? On my button? What were you doing? Are you okay?”

David tried to blink back some tears. “I think so? It’s just, I’m more accustomed to, um, a higher caliber button that can withstand a little teeth? But it’s fine, let’s keep going, let me just take your shirt off so I don’t bleed on it.”

“Um, David, I’ve been thinking…”

THAT MORNING

David didn’t want to know what Patrick had been thinking. It was either that he wanted to have sex or break up, and each presented its own problems. 

“David, are you still with me?” Patrick’s eyes were warm and tender, and his cheeks were a little pink.

David waited for a customer to walk in, or for the wonky light to start sparking, or even his mother to call and express some disappointment with the Town Council. Nothing.

“Of course, Patrick. What is it?”

Patrick’s eyes flicked to David’s mouth, his shoulders, his hair, seeming to take him all in before returning to his eyes. “I want to have sex. With you. I don’t want to wait any more.”

David looked at Patrick, so happy and trusting. “Are you sure? I don’t mind waiting. I really don’t.” David felt his heart contract, that someone so unguarded would want to have sex with him. All the more reason to watch himself.

Patrick wrapped his arms around David’s waist and rested his chin on his David’s shoulder, like they were dancing. “David, I’m 30 years old. You’ve been very respectful, but I’m ready. I promise.” He pulled back slightly. “Oh, you have an eyelash.” And with the gentlest fingers, he plucked the dark lash from David’s cheek and held it up for him to blow. “Make a wish!”

A wish. After weeks-- no, years-- of restraint, of clamping down his desires, David couldn’t believe that this scrap of tenderness would be his undoing. David was suddenly hungry. He was starving. He was starving for Patrick in a way that overpowered him. David grabbed Patrick by the shoulders, spun him around, and pushed him into the storeroom. He closed the curtain, keeping his grip on Patrick’s shoulder with the other hand, and steered him until Patrick’s chest pressed against the wall. His grip on Patrick’s body was all that kept his hands from shaking.

“I want...” David growled, but he didn’t even know how to finish the sentence. He ground himself into Patrick’s ass and sucked hard on his neck. The more he got-- the more friction, the more heat, the more of Patrick’s smell-- the more he wanted. Nothing was enough. As he pressed harder and sucked harder, he was terrified of himself, but he couldn’t stop. Desperate for more contact, David forced a hand between him and the wall and groped the front of Patrick’s jeans. 

“Jesus,” grunted Patrick, at the same moment the bell at the cash rang repeatedly. 

David snapped back to reality. He was flushed, disoriented, and scared. 

THAT NIGHT

Patrick dabbed at David’s lip with a piece of damp toilet paper. Stevie didn’t have any tissues or paper towels or band aids, but Patrick let the tap run until the water got warm and touched the cut so tenderly that is barely stung.

“David, you seem really nervous. Would you talk to me?”

David automatically deflected. “I’m not sure what you mean. I thought I was showing you a very good time.” He couldn’t resist adding, “I’ve never had complaints before.”

Patrick brushed his lip extra gently with the warm tissue. “I’m not complaining. I love everything we do. Except for maybe when you told me to lay back and think of England. But I get the feeling that you think you need to perform for me. Is it because I haven’t done this before? Are you trying to show me what you want me to do?”

“God, no, Patrick. It’s just…” David was mortified, but he had already split his lip on a cheap button so how much farther could rock bottom be? He took a deep breath and announced gravely, “Patrick, you should probably know that I am good in bed.”

Patrick looked at him with a mix of confusion and maybe a touch of amusement. “Well, I suspected as much, but I was hoping to confirm it for myself.”

“You don’t understand. I’ve always been very good at sex. And that’s how I got people close to me. And then I tried to keep them around by doing all the things they liked. But they all left anyway.”

“Oh.” Patrick was very still now.

“I wanted to be good in bed for YOU.” David was trying not to cry now. “I was going to unbutton your shirt with my teeth, and do the Silky Swirl Deluxe, and this thing where I roll you on to your stomach, and then using only my inner thighs…”

“Whoa, David. That sounds amazing but also kind of terrifying. I just thought we were going to kiss and take off our clothes and touch each other’s penises, and I already felt like the luckiest guy alive.”

Another one of those giggles of relief bubbled up in David. Even if giggling didn’t belong in the bedroom, it was better than the knots of tension he had been feeling. Unfortunately, it made his lip bleed again. Fortunately, Patrick was forced to tenderly dab some more. 

“Listen to me, David. You don’t have to put on a show for me. I want sex to be something we do together, not where one person is doing handsprings and the other is taking a nap. I want to be close to you and learn what you like. And learn what I like. Though after four weeks of interrupted make out sessions, I am really not that hard to please.”

“I think…” started David, “That in my head I somehow started equating having sex with the end of a relationship. Like, the other person finally got what they wanted, and soon it was going to be over. So I always have to be on guard to keep them interested, and to focus on what they want, and try not to want anything myself. And I don’t want it to be over with us.” He felt like he had just vomited his ugly past into Patrick’s lap, onto Stevie’s clean sheets.

Patrick stroked David’s cheek with his empty hand. “Hey, remember when I said you were a good person? I have no doubt you’re good in bed. But you’re also good. In bed. And good in a car, and good in a motel, and good in a mediocre cafe.”

“I sound like a Dr. Seuss character.”

Patrick laughed warmly. He leaned into David and whispered, “The thing is, David, I’m all in. I’m not going anywhere.” David shuddered with relief as those words struck a chord deep within, and someplace that had never been reached before...relaxed.

THAT MORNING

After Stevie left, after Patrick jumped on her offer of the apartment for the night, David apologized for giving Patrick the hickey. Though what he really meant to say was, _I’m sorry for getting carried away. I’m sorry for thinking about what felt good to me instead of what feels good to you. I’m sorry that you’ll be tired of me soon, that you’ll realize how needy I am. I miss you already._

THAT NIGHT (LATER)

“David, I take back all that stuff about you being good in a car or on a boat or in a house with a mouse. You’re good in bed.” Patrick had been silent and gasping for several minutes, and it was obvious this little speech was using the last of his energy.

“You, too,” sighed David, and he tried a new move, something he had imagined but never done before. He turned onto his side and felt Patrick’s body spoon behind him, wrapping a hand in David’s hand, just over his heart.

**Author's Note:**

> The especially observant among you will notice I have dressed Patrick in a different shirt than he actually wears in this episode. Thanks for going with it.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


End file.
